10 Years

In August of 2001, I took a trip to New York City. I had just returned from two weeks in Italy and I was exhausted. I got one day of rest before I hopped back on a plane with my mother, aunt, cousin, and niece to visit the Big Apple. Before then, I'd only seen the city in passing, having flown in and out of Newark for Europe. We were visiting to take in a concert at Carnegie Hall, the music of 'Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?'.

We crammed ourselves in a small hotel room a few blocks from the Hall. We attended the concert, had a wonderful night, and set out the next morning to see the city. We visited Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty. FAO Schwarz was lots of fun and Tiffany's was beautiful (from the outside). We had a deli sandwich near Soho that was second to none and a cannoli in Little Italy. I loved Rockefeller Center and the breathtaking St. Patrick's Cathedral. Times Square was so bustling and bright and I finally got to see the Macy's. We hiked to the first bastion on the Brooklyn Bridge and back and as we stopped to rest near a hot dog cart, I saw the Twin Towers jutting into the sky and knew I had to get closer. I begged my party to walk just a bit further and reluctantly, they agreed. It was hot, our feet were sore, but we pressed on.

As we approached the center, my chin tilted higher and higher. Until then, I'd restrained myself from looking up. I thought it kept me from seeming like a tourist. But those towers were just so impossibly tall! My family was impressed too, but not as much as I was. I loved buildings and architecture. I stopped in between the towers and took a slow spin. I was dizzy with admiration. Paying no mind now to who saw me be a 'tourist', I got down on the stones of the Center and took a photo. The top 15 or so floors of both buildings were all that would fit in the frame.

We took the subway from the Center station and left the city behind. I remained amazed for some time, remembering the unearthly monoliths of glass and steel. On that morning, weeks later, I was at college walking back from my first class of the day when I saw one of the school maintenance workers stalking across the courtyard cursing. He wasn't normally the type to show such emotion. I asked him what was wrong and he told me. He yelled it, his fuming, trembling voice bouncing off of every surface. I stood there for a few moments, not knowing what to think. As I rushed to my dorm room, I shook my head. This couldn't be right. I remember standing in front of my television watching it all unfold. I had just been there. I had just seen those towers. I had just felt the cool stones on my tired back, surrounded by workers and other tourists. We were smiling.

September 11th, 2001 was a day that knows no equal. There will always be gaping hole in Manhattan, no matter how things may change. The skyline would never be the same; America would never be the same. I thank God for the opportunity I had to see the city as it should still be. I thank God for the lives that were spared, for the courage of America that day and the strength in the days afterward. I pray to God now to protect our nation from feeling that kind of pain again. God bless America and God keep us.

9/11: What I Learned

I read a Care Bears storybook from my childhood the other day. This story was about a boy who was being bullied at school. Of course, the Care Bears encouraged the child to befriend the bully because the poor bully was just misunderstood. The two became friends and everything was great in the end. Unfortunately, that's not always how it works.

On September 11th, 2001, I was in college. I was walking across the courtyard and caught sight of one of the school maintenance men. He was muttering and cursing to himself. We asked him what was wrong and he told us. Everyone crowded around televisions, tears refusing to fall because the shock was so great. I had seen the World Trade Center only a few months earlier on a visit to New York. My heart and my innocence broke that day as I watched the billowing smoke.

You see, Islamic extremists are bullies of the worst kind. They don't bully because they're calling out for help. They don't bully because they secretly want to be friends. These people bully because the fabric of their fiercely held faith tells them to. They are instructed in no uncertain terms to wage war on those who are different from themselves. That morning, they waged war on people just like you and me. It could have been us choosing a death by falling dozens of stories as opposed to burning alive. It could have been us, killed by debris while trying to search for survivors. It could have been us on those airplanes, hijacked by suicide Jihadists.

When we were children, we were taught that bullies aren't anything to be afraid of. If we 'killed them with kindness,' they would leave us alone, maybe even be our new friends. Perhaps we learned that by reading books like the one I mentioned. But these bullies, we must fear them. We must fear them enough to have no misunderstanding of their motives. In our hearts, we need to have that terrible morning run a loop to remind us of our fleeting freedom and our fleeting lives. Our children and our children's children count on us to be discerning about lessons like these. A school bully? Sure, being friendly and non-confrontational may work. But these people were never interested in being our friends.

If we value our lives as free-living and free-worshiping Americans, we will educate ourselves about these people. We will read the Qur'an instead of burning it. We will set aside our 'live and let live' dreams and wake up to a 'they live and we die' reality. Humans are animals first and animals who have never been taught mercy cannot show it. The more rope we give them, the more rope they have to hang us with. Do not forget that morning, that bright September morning. Do not forget that someone just like you and me took their last breath because of intolerance and hatred at the hands of one of the biggest bullies the earth has ever known.